


Three Ways Talon Could Have Died

by Wildcard



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildcard/pseuds/Wildcard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what the title says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Ways Talon Could Have Died

> _i. as a child_

_Don’t lie down._ The feverish thought swims in the child’s mind as he stumbles-staggers through the sewers. He mustn’t lie down, no matter what. The walls blur and shift, even as he keeps one hand against the slimy surface to make sure he’ll keep walking in the same direction.

If he lies down, the rats will come. If he lies down, he’ll never wake up.

He has to keep walking. He won’t be allowed out of the Underground, won’t be allowed to carry his contagion surface-side. He can’t afford a healer or a doctor. The only thing he can do is lie down somewhere that his body might be able to fight off the infection before he is devoured alive by the rats.

> _ii. when general du couteau defeated him_

“Serve or die, boy,” the man says and presses the tip of his sword deeper into Talon’s throat. Talon glares up at him with his one good eye; the skin around the other is swollen and bloody, bruised shut. Every inch of him aches from how often he’s been slammed down against the stone or sliced by that cursed sword and his hands, for once, are empty of blades.

Even now, he thinks about reaching for the man’s ankles, grabbing them and yanking to send him off balance. Maybe he could cut the man’s Achilles tendon with the jut of white bone that pokes out from Talon’s arm where it broke. Maybe he can get the sword from him. Maybe he can–

The point of the sword presses in so deeply that Talon chokes on his next breath.

> _iii. when he was tortured in demacia_  
> 

“Pathetic,” Talon rasps, desperately fighting back the looming darkness, feigning a clarity of thought he lacks. The trembling of his limbs from when he went into shock mirrors the way they quivered with pain. He can’t let his torturers know how badly they’ve miscalculated. If they realize he’s dying, they’ll stop. They’ll bandage him up and throw him back into the cell to wait for the next agonizing session.

He needs them to continue. He needs them to kill him.

He needs this to end.

His body jerks at the sizzling touch of hot iron against his skin and he screams, raw and high, louder than the laughter of the torturers. The scream dies down into whimpered breaths and Talon prays for just a few more seconds of consciousness, just enough to tip him over the edge into death. He knows exactly how much blood loss a man can lose before he dies; only a few teaspoons separate him from that line. Talon just needs to hold on a little longer.

Just a little longer…


End file.
